


See Me Trying

by unbecomings



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 19:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20452010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbecomings/pseuds/unbecomings
Summary: It's been weeks since Lindsey got on a scoresheet and it's driving her insane.





	See Me Trying

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Lindsey can’t score. She can’t even assist on purpose. Sure, she gets an assist on Sinc’s goal, but she had been trying to _score_. She’s smart and old enough to understand how to stay onside. She’s so frustrated with herself that she could scream, but she puts on a happy face for Emily. Emily, who’s just had her best game in ages, whose goal had been so effortless. Emily, who slides into the car next to Lindsey, still beaming.

“Great game,” Lindsey says. 

“Fun to win,” Emily says, and Lindsey shakes her head, pulling out of the parking lot. 

“No,” Lindsey says, “I meant, you had a great game.”

Emily is quiet for a second, and Lindsey wants to look at her but she watches the road more carefully than she needs to, holding the wheel with both hands even though she doesn’t usually. Eventually, when Emily speaks again, Lindsey sneaks a look, but Emily is looking out the window, her face hidden.

“Thanks,” Emily says quietly, “it felt good. Feels...good.”

Emily turns back to look at her and now it’s Lindsey trying to hide her face, pulling onto their street.

“Linds,” Emily says, “it’ll come back.”

“Yeah,” Lindsey says, “I know.” 

-

“Sorry,” Lindsey says, breathing in steam, “I didn’t mean to ruin it, I know you’re having a good night.”

“Shut up,” Emily says. She presses a kiss between Lindsey’s shoulderblades and reaches around her for the conditioner. She can’t reach it, but Lindsey hands it to her; they’ve been doing this regularly enough that she knows the drill by now. She closes her eyes and lets Emily work the conditioner into her hair, leaning her head back so that Emily’s fingers can reach all the way to her hairline.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Emily says, “I still feel very good about myself.”

Lindsey snorts a laugh through her nose. Only Emily can make her smile when she feels like she wants to curl up and cry. 

“Good,” she says, “you should.”

Emily runs her fingers once more through Lindsey’s hair before they switch places. She feels like she can’t do anything right, like she’s not being gentle enough when she smooths the conditioner into Emily’s hair, even though she knows that she is and she knows that Emily likes her hair tugged a little bit, anyway. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m not happy for you,” Lindsey says, “I’m really proud of you.”

“I don’t think that,” Emily says, “you can be proud of me and still frustrated with yourself. You contain multitudes.”

She’s only teasing because she knows if she’s serious Lindsey’s going to cry.

“You need to stop thinking about it,” Emily says. 

“I would love to stop thinking about it,” Lindsey replies, and they switch places again so that she can rinse the conditioner out of her hair. Somewhere behind her Emily is uncapping the bodywash and lathering herself up; the quick showers at the stadium are never worth much more than a rinse and they only ever have Irish Spring soap, a smell that Emily hates.

“I think,” Emily says, a smile in her voice, “that can be arranged.”

-

By the time Emily is done drying her hair--which she insists on doing because she hates the way it gets when it’s air-dried--Lindsey is half asleep, lying on her stomach with one arm flung onto Emily’s side of the bed. She lifts her head when Emily comes back into the bedroom, resting her chin on the mattress, but she doesn’t move her arm.

Emily doesn’t ask her to. Instead she climbs onto the bed and swings her leg over Lindsey so that she can sit directly on top of her. 

“Rude,” Lindsey mumbles, but she loves the weight of Emily on top of her, pressing her hips into the bed. She’s not sore yet but she knows she’s going to be. Every muscle in her body is exhausted. She doesn’t even realize how tense her back is until Emily brushes her wet hair away from her neck and presses her thumb into Lindsey’s back, just to the right of her spine. She drags her thumb from the base of Lindsey’s spine up between her shoulders, keeping the pressure on the whole way, and it feels so good that Lindsey makes an appreciative noise, letting her eyes fall closed again.

“You need full-body tomorrow,” Emily says, “you should tell them tomorrow.”

“Or you could do it now,” Lindsey mumbles.

“I’m not a doctor,” Emily says, but she doesn’t stop what she’s doing. She switches sides, but then she sits back on her heels after only a minute and Lindsey sighs. She’s about to complain when Emily speaks again.

“Take your shirt off,” Emily says, and it’s just for the massage, it’s not meant to be sexy, but Lindsey’s body reacts anyway. She whips her shirt over her head and lays back down, and Emily’s hands feel even better on her back without her shirt in the way. She has goosebumps but she’s not sure Emily can tell. Something about not being able to see Emily’s expression is driving Lindsey slowly crazy, but she loves every second of it. It surprises her, but she’s not in the mood to question it.

Emily finds a knot in Lindsey’s shoulder with the heel of her hand and Lindsey gasps. 

“Sorry,” Emily says, drawing back, and Lindsey misses it immediately.

“No,” she says, “keep going.”

Instead, Emily slides back so that she’s resting her weight against the backs of Lindsey’s thighs. She leans down and kisses the back of Lindsey’s neck, and every hair on Lindsey’s body stands on end. 

“You have such a nice back,” Emily mumbles into the back of Lindsey’s neck.

“Thank you,” Lindsey says, even though she wants to deflect the compliment. She knows Emily will keep saying it until she accepts it, they’ve been down that road before.

“I can’t believe how hot you are,” Emily says. She’s said that before too, but tonight it feels different, with Emily’s hands on her back and Emily pinning her, purposely or not, to the bed.

“You gonna do something about it?” Lindsey asks, and Emily exhales audibly, flexing her hands against Lindsey’s back and ribs. She doesn’t answer, just leans in to kiss Lindsey’s neck again, and then her shoulder. Lindsey props herself up on her elbows, and Emily’s hand snakes around to her stomach, over her ribs again, until her thumb is just brushing against the underside of Lindsey’s breast. 

Lindsey does stop thinking. There’s nothing else worth thinking about other than Emily’s hand, when she slides her hand up further to gently pinch Lindsey’s nipple between her fingers. Lindsey’s hips jump but there’s nowhere for them to go other than into the mattress, and the resistance without any friction is as hot as it is frustrating. She can feel Emily’s breath against the back of her neck and tries to imagine the look on Emily’s face, her lips parted, her eyes dark.

“Wanna kiss you,” Emily says, and she’s mumbling feverishly, the way she does when she gets turned on and Lindsey doesn’t stop her from rambling, “wanna put my mouth on you, maybe later.”

“Maybe now,” Lindsey says, and Emily grins against her cheek. Lindsey doesn’t know what she wants most, and that’s what she’s thinking when Emily sits up. She can hear enough to guess that Emily’s taking her shirt off now, too, and she knows she’s right when Emily reaches for her cheek, coaxing Lindsey to crane her neck around into a kiss, albeit an awkward one. When Lindsey drops her head again Emily’s naked chest is pressed against her back and Emily’s hand has drifted to her other breast, and Lindsey knows she could flip them over any second if she wanted to but she likes the idea of restraining herself.

So she doesn’t move. She lets Emily torture her with one hand, and when Emily rocks forward, her hips against Lindsey’s ass, Lindsey doesn’t try to stop herself from moaning softly. Some part of her is hoping it’ll convince Emily to let her turn over, but she’s surprised that most of her wants to stay like this, wants Emily to rock into her again, wants Emily’s mouth back on the back of her neck.

“Fuck,” Emily mumbles, and Lindsey has to agree.

When Emily slides back along the bed again, Lindsey doesn’t get up. Emily tugs at the waist of Lindsey’s pajama pants and Lindsey lifts her hips off of the bed so that Emily can tug them down. She kicks them free and Emily tosses them away, and Lindsey is honestly surprised when Emily settles between her calves and reaches down to tug Lindsey to her hands and knees.

It’s not a position she ever considered being in before. Certainly they’ve been here with the roles reversed once or twice, and it’s a view that Lindsey loves, being able to see the way Emily’s shoulders taper into her waist and slim hips. She’s not sure exactly what Emily’s seeing, but whatever it is Emily likes it, judging by the soft sound she makes when she places her hands on Lindsey’s hips.

“Okay?” Emily asks, and it comes out hoarsely, and that alone is enough to convince Lindsey that she definitely, _definitely_ wants to do this. She nods and Emily settles between her knees, her hips aligned with Lindsey’s. 

Emily leans down and presses a kiss to the middle of Lindsey’s back. One of her hands snakes around to Lindsey’s stomach and Lindsey feels surrounded, in the best way. she’s a little ticklish, so Emily’s fingertips ghosting across her stomach make her tense and exhale on a quiet laugh. Still, she wonders how long Emily is going to make her wait. And wonders if Emily will let her roll over to come, because she wants to see Emily’s face when she does.

Emily uses her knee to nudge Lindsey’s, and in response Lindsey widens her stance, feeling vulnerable but not in a bad way. Actually, with Emily’s breath against her upper back and Emily’s hand sliding down her stomach, she feels kind of sexy. When Emily’s hand slips between her legs, Lindsey closes her eyes and tries to imagine Emily’s expression. 

“You like this,” Emily says, and it’s not a question or dirty talk, it’s a statement, one tinged with pleasant surprise. 

“I like you,” Lindsey mumbles, “doesn’t matter what you’re doing to me.”

Emily laughs, and now that she’s pressed against Lindsey’s back, Lindsey can feel it.

“Dunno about that,” Emily says, and drops a kiss between Lindsey’s shoulders again. Emily slides her fingers through the wetness between Lindsey’s legs and Lindsey drops her head, holding her breath to let it out incrementally, trying to keep still. They’ve been together long enough that Emily knows exactly what Lindsey needs, but Emily just wants to touch her first, so Lindsey doesn’t get nearly enough friction. She wants to feel more of Emily’s fingers. Emily wants...Lindsey doesn’t know what Emily wants. To drive her insane, probably. 

She doesn’t want to ask, so instead of speaking, she rocks against Emily’s fingers. She’s gratified by the sound Emily makes behind her, something between a squeak of surprise and a moan, and it gets her what she wants. Emily curves her fingers so that her fingertips press against Lindsey where she’s most sensitive, and now it’s Lindsey’s turn to groan. She’s doing a good job staying still again until Emily leans down and scrapes her teeth against Lindsey’s skin. 

“Fuck,” Lindsey hisses, and she’s expecting Emily to laugh but she doesn’t, just bears down harder, sucking until Lindsey knows it’s going to leave a mark. Emily doesn’t care if their teammates see it. The thought, when Emily moves to the other side of her back to make a matching mark, makes Lindsey moan again and buck her hips into Emily’s hand. Emily eventually leans back and Lindsey misses the heat of Emily’s mouth and the sensation of Emily’s body so close to hers. Emily brings her free hand to join her other hand between Lindsey’s legs, and Lindsey is so turned on that one of Emily’s fingers feels like nothing.

“Em,” she murmurs, and as if Emily can read her mind she adds another, so that Lindsey is rocking back against Emily’s fingers and forward into her other hand, working herself up. 

She’s not going to last long like that and she knows it. Already she can feel her legs going weak, enough so that she has to drop from her hands to her elbows and bury her face into her wrists. As good as she feels, she misses having Emily closer, wants to see how hungry Emily’s expression is, wants to kiss her. 

“Wanna see you,” she says, turning her head so that Emily can hear her. 

Emily pulls away and flips her easily, much more easily than Lindsey anticipated. Either she thinks she’s bigger than she is or she had no idea how strong Emily actually is. She doesn’t have time to decide which is true because the second she inhales again Emily is upon her, kissing her desperately with both hands on Lindsey’s thighs. Lindsey kisses her back and hikes a leg up over Emily’s hip, but Emily doesn’t touch her properly again until Lindsey breaks the kiss to stare at her. It’s like she’d forgotten what they were doing. Emily’s a mess, eyes wide, blushing red when she replaces her fingers and Lindsey’s eyes nearly roll back in her head. 

She arches up off the bed, looking for a kiss, but Emily doesn’t notice because she’s sliding down the bed. Lindsey barely has time to brace herself with her heels on the mattress before Emily cups her chin in her hand and uses her other hand to tug Lindsey to her mouth. Lindsey ends up with both hands in Emily’s hair, gasping incoherently when she comes. It’s the best orgasm she can remember having—but she knows she’s had that thought with Emily before, and will have it again. 

Emily pulls away but leaves her hand where it is while Lindsey shakes and shakes, and Lindsey can’t believe how long it’s going on, can’t focus on anything but Emily trailing haphazard kisses along her stomach. 

“Fuck,” Lindsey breathes, halfway to laughing, “I love you.”

“Oh, _now_ you love me,” Emily grumbles from between her breasts, and Lindsey reaches for Emily’s free hand to thread their fingers together and squeeze. 

“I always love you,” Lindsey says, and Emily blushes, tucking her face into Lindsey’s neck. She’s still wearing her shorts, and Lindsey slides her hand down into them, first to grope blindly at Emily’s ass, and then, when Emily laughs, to snap the elastic waist.

“Hey!” Emily says, “that’s how you repay me for the best orgasm of your life?”

“Shut up,” Lindsey says, but she’s laughing too.

Emily slots her leg between Lindsey’s and they lay like that for a while, quietly, knowing that it’s just a lull. In a few minutes Lindsey will flip Emily onto her back and make her come twice in the span of twenty minutes just because she can, because it feels good to be good at something and because nothing feels better than making Emily feel good. For now, they breathe together until Emily places her hand on Lindsey’s stomach again, tracing her fingertips around Lindsey’s belly button.

“Do you feel better?” Emily says.

Lindsey thinks about the game for the first time since Emily came out of the bathroom. It doesn’t sting like it did before.

“Yeah,” she says, “I guess I do.”


End file.
